Mermaid out of Water
by Ru Rabbit
Summary: A slight mishap during the Cerulean Gym's latest show leaves Misty out of her element. Will Ash be able to help her, or will he just make things worse? 10,000 words for PokeShipping Week 2016.
1. Finsteps

**Pointless Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokemon – but by the end of this story, maybe you'll wish I did.

 _Author's Note: In my mind, each generation of the anime lasts for roughly 1.5 years. Therefore, in this fic, Ash: 17, Misty: 17, Brock: 22. Enjoy._

* * *

 **Finsteps**

 _Thwack, slap, smack, thwack._

Misty hopped down the corridor of the Cerulean Gym, the fin of her mermaid's tail slapping against the vinyl flooring. She gripped the nearest wall with one hand, barely keeping her balance, and peered over her shoulder nervously. A long trail of puddles marked the footsteps – well, finsteps – she had left in her wake. She was still soaking wet from her underwater acrobatics; her hair extensions weighed her head back like an iron veil. But there was no time to dry off. Right now, she had bigger issues to deal with, and the first of those was to make it to her dressing room unnoticed. Because after all, a pink seashell bikini top was the last thing she wanted to be seen in – at least, up close and personal.

Thank Mew the hallways were empty – this would be embarrassing enough if it happened _before_ the show. Certainly not during – not right at the start of intermission, _of course not_. Why settle for a minor setback when you could have a total disaster on your hands?

"Because that would be _too easy_ ," Misty muttered to herself, hopping along, giving a voice to Atropotema. "Let's see how she can handle it without legs." She leaned forward, peering around the corner of a junction. Her dressing room door stood like a shining fire escape along the wall of the conjoining hallway. Thankfully she hadn't made a wrong turn along the way. The panic that had gripped her when she realized the gravity of her predicament – it was enough to disorient even her in this place.

Misty pressed forward, hopping towards the door. _Almost there_. Crisis on hold. Dignity intact. Maybe there was no reason to be freaking out about this. Well, no – there _was_ a reason, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. It was just a small little problem, a tiny little issue, and there had to be _some_ way to fix it. She would figure something out.

Misty reached out towards the door handle – and lost her balance, her tail swishing out from under her. She fell forward with a yelp, slamming her head against the wooden surface of the door. _THUD._

"O-ow…" Misty clutched her forehead with both hands, glancing up at the handle from her new-found bed of floor tile and water puddles. "Damn it!" She reached up and ripped the door open, dragging herself inside the dressing room like a beached Magikarp. Still on the floor, she pushed the door closed behind her, making sure to lock it with a c _lick_. The back of her head came to rest against the burgundy wall, almost of its own accord. She let out a heavy sigh.

"Yep. Total disaster."

* * *

 _At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Brilliant, actually. The Cerulean Gym's semi-annual Water Ballet was its (and the Waterflower family's) largest source of revenue. The show far outpaced the money made through registering gym challengers, and it even dwarfed the mandatory contributions from the Indigo League. All in all, it was a hit – except for the simple fact that people weren't showing up._

 _Each year, the lines that stretched outside the gym grew shorter. Each year, the stands were less and less full. And each year, the money made from the show – the money used to keep the Cerulean Gym in business – dwindled. It was getting to the point of being unsustainable._

 _Misty knew why. It was obvious. No matter how amazing their performance, no matter how hard she and her sisters – well, mostly she – worked to make it happen, there were only so many times people would come to see the same show. Aside from the gym, Cerulean City wasn't exactly a tourist hotspot; some coastal bluffs, a bike shop, more … coastal bluffs. Most of their audience lived here; the out-of-towners that did show up were few and far between. Eventually, people had gotten bored seeing the same thing over and over. As Daisy would put it: "The water ballet? That's **so** last year."_

 _So, of course, this meant that Misty had to try something new. And what better way to revive the show than with a new script, carefully plagiarized from the plot of The Little Mermaid? Throw in a little transformation, a couple of beach and castle scenes, a sinister new villain, and a bit of tragic romance with an (ultimately) happy ending. It would be a hit! Of course, right?_

 _Well, it was. People had shown up in droves, packing the gym's stadium seats shoulder-to-shoulder. The cheering crowd seemed larger and louder than even their very first opening day. Even Ash and Brock were here, though that was no coincidence: the latter lived just a city away, and she had threatened to drag the former to Cerulean City by the hat if he didn't show up for this one. Never mind that he was traveling the world; she wanted him here. For this. I-it was a premiere, after all! Not a convenient excuse at all. Nope._

 _And yet, despite all this planning (and threatening), Misty soon discovered a flaw in her plan. She had made one slight miscalculation: her part in the play had grown that much more difficult. Before, at intermission, she could simply swim to her conch shell, pretend to fall asleep, retrieve her hidden oxygen device, and spend the next fifteen minutes resting, preparing herself for Act II. Now, the list of tasks to be done had gotten … a bit longer. The entire bulk glass structure of the ballet had to be lowered back into the pool. The retractable floor had to rumble back into place. Curtains had to be drawn all along the length of the newly-created stage. Scenery had to be set up. And most importantly, she had to change her outfit to something that accommodated legs._

 _And that's where the problems started – with a simple, panic-inducing SNAP._

* * *

Misty looked down at her mermaid's tail in frustration. She moved her hands to her hip, fiddling with neoprene, pulling at the wetsuit-like material. After a moment, her fingers found the seam – and the broken zipper that lie underneath.

It wasn't _just_ broken, of course. Snapping the pull tag off the zipper in her haste to get changed obviously wasn't enough. It was stuck, too – jammed in between two teeth with little hope of coming free. No matter how she struggled with it, the fastener wouldn't budge, not even a millimeter.

"Ugh. This is ridiculous!" cried Misty, exasperated. "How am I supposed to get this off? A fish knife?" She soon found herself wondering if there truly was a cutting utensil known as a "fish knife". It sounded like something Ash would say, so she assumed there wasn't. _Hey Misty, can you hand me that fish knife?_ Hmm. Not likely. Fish _ing_ knife, maybe. Fillet knife. Aquatic-related trivia always bothered her.

Clawing at the wall, Misty struggled to get to her feet – or in this case, fin – and looked around. Her dressing room provided some privacy to deal with this problem – more so than the shared locker room, at least – but a solution wasn't coming to light. The costume accessories and various cosmetic items scattered across her vanity provided no answers. She stared at her sopping, disheveled reflection in the brightly-lit mirror, wracking her brain for a way out of this mess.

 _Cut a new seam in the material?_ No, that was out of the question. It would be impossible for her to fix it later, and a mermaid's tail that wasn't waterproof? Less than useless.

 _Try to force it off?_ Impossible – at least, not by herself. The tail was skintight, custom-made with nothing left to chance. At the time of order, measurements had been taken to fit her figure exactly; Misty had been too paranoid about the thing slipping off during a show to settle for anything less. But that meant slipping _out_ of it was like pulling off a Pokemon heist orchestrated by Jesse and James. Besides, that had been the first thing she tried.

 _Hope_ _her sisters_ _would notice?_ Fat chance. Daisy, Lily, and Violet were all busy preparing the stage during the intermission; there were too many tasks to handle for them _not_ to be busy. Misty had been the first one to reach the locker room, and had hopped off in a panicked frenzy long before any of her sisters had shown up to change. None of them would have noticed that something was wrong. In fact – she let out a derisive scoff at this – they probably assumed that she was fixing her hair. And no one else knew about her predicament.

 _Pray for a miracle?_

A knock at the door.

Misty blinked, incredulous. "It worked?" Apparently wooden crosses did more than ward off annoying Ghastlys. She might become a believer just yet. She quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. "I knew you'd figure out some-"

Misty's exaltation died mid-sentence. Slowly, a look of horror crept its way onto her face, like a Haunter emerging from a beautiful antique portrait, more than ready to drag its victim to the afterlife. A bead of sweat wandered along her brow, dripping to the floor to join its siblings from the pool. Because outside the doorway stood not Daisy, nor Lily, nor Violet. Not even one of the random townsfolk they had hired to help with the show. No, outside the door was the worst nightmare imaginable – the one person, the _only_ person she would have never, _ever_ called to ask for help.

"Misty?" said Ash, looking confused from underneath the brim of his Pokemon League hat. "What's going on? Figure out what?"

A _miracle?_ Scratch that. This had gone from a total disaster to an _utter catastrophe_.

"A-ash," said Misty, piling on her trademarked Innocent Sweetness™ like icing on a wedding cake. "Why are you here?"

Ash blinked. "What about you?"

"It's my dressing room, idiot. Why wouldn't I be here?"

"O-oh. Right," replied Ash, chuckling nervously, a hand behind his head. He paused for a moment, as if he had forgotten _why_ he had shown up at her door in the first place. "Daisy asked me to help look for you."

"Oh, Daisy?" Inwardly, Misty breathed a sigh of relief. _So they did notice_ _something was up_ _._ She might be able to squirm her way out of this one just yet. "Wait. How did you even know where I was? You've never been down here before."

Ash nodded to the hallway, to the trail of standing water that ended beside his feet. "I figured I'd find you if I followed the puddles."

Misty rolled her eyes. _Hansel and Gretel,_ _undersea edition_. But this was no fairy tale. "Never mind. Daisy, where is she?"

"Outside, getting things ready along with everyone else." Ash broke into one of his signature grins – the goofy kind that always tugged at her heartstrings. "You guys put a lot of work into this one, Mist. No wonder you needed the help."

Did she mention that she had convinced Ash to help set up the stage during the intermission, too? No? Minor detail.

Misty laughed ruefully. "I could use some of that now." She clamped her lips together, the regret hitting almost immediately. Misty wanted to take those words, stuff them into a jar, entomb it in a cement sarcophagus, and bury it deep beneath the Cerulean Gym's foundation.

Ash furrowed his brow, seeming concerned. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing! Can you, uh …" Misty glanced back into her dressing room, at the clock hanging on the wall. _6:22 PM._ Eight minutes until intermission was over. Eight minutes to find a way out of this. Eight minutes to get changed, restyle her hair, apply makeup, sprint up to the stage, remember her lines, not botch this entire play, and save the Cerulean Gym from certain bankruptcy.

Eight minutes.

"Misty?" said Ash.

She turned to look at him. They stared at each other for what seemed like ages. He blinked at her.

 _Tick._ Seven minutes.

Misty grabbed Ash by the jacket collar, pulling him inside the room with an exasperated huff. "Get in here."


	2. Stuck

**Stuck**

"Stuck? What do you mean, _stuck?_ On what?"

Misty looked away, desperately trying to quell the raging fire within her, to keep it off her cheeks. This was just too embarrassing. Of all the people to catch her in such a compromising situation, of all the people she could have begged to for help, why oh why did it have to be _Ash freaking Ketchum?_

Finally, without looking Ash's way, Misty used both hands to make a little gesture towards her hips. "I'm … stuck."

Ash stared at her for a moment, utterly baffled – and then burst out laughing.

"W-what?!" cried Misty, feeling the heat flare to her face. "I'm a mermaid out of water! This is a serious problem!"

Ash was practically rolling on the floor. "M-maybe you should cut down on the fish food. Too much is bad for your figure!"

Misty's rage boiled over. She hopped over to him with two violent _STOMPS_ , her tail fin landing like a guillotine inches from his neck. Ash stopped rolling, looking up at her with a gulp.

"You know Ash, I wrote the script for this play," said Misty, glaring down at him with teal irises of ice. "I could just as easily turn it into a _murder mystery._ "

Now Ash was the one who was sweating. Maybe he thought she was serious. "Y-you wouldn't do that."

Misty knelt down beside him, gazing into his eyes, smiling sweetly. "We're alone, aren't we?" She snapped her expression into a dark leer in a flash. "No witnesses."

"Okay! Okay!" cried Ash, scuttling backwards. His back collided against the wall. _Appropriate_ , thought Misty. "What do you, um, want me to do?"

"It's not that I can't get this thing off because I'm _too fat_ ," – upon hearing Ash snicker again, Misty glared his way, and the smirk present on his face vanished – "shut up. The zipper is broken, okay? It's not designed to come off any other way. I don't know what else to do."

"So you need me to, what? Help pull it off?"

Misty nodded. "Yeah."

An awkward silence settled over the dressing room. Up until this point, Misty hadn't really given that much thought to what it was she was asking Ash to do. Well, she knew what _she_ had to do – come up with a plan to free herself from her fishy leg-bindings, obviously. What she hadn't considered were the details: the actions that Ash would have to take in order to make that happen. But the devil was in the details, and those were coming back to bite her in the fin.

"Mist …" said Ash, taking a glance at the mermaid's tail. He paused, and it was obvious to her that he was choosing his words very carefully. "Um … what are you wearing under that?"

Misty stiffened. "I-it's a swimsuit."

"You're wearing a swimsuit under that?"

"No. It's uh …" She looked off to the side, away from his gaze. The fires of embarrassment were rekindling. "Like a swimsuit. The bottom part's attached."

Ash paused again, this time for entirely too long. "So you're … not wearing anything under that?"

Misty suddenly felt as if she had been tossed into a pressure cooker. She looked back at him, meeting his eyes, her cheeks blazing with humiliation. She nodded sheepishly.

"I'm calling Daisy."

" _NO!_ " She practically dove at Ash, latching onto his arm before he could slip out the door. "Y-you can't! I only have," – Misty whipped her head around to look at the clock – " _Five minutes?_ Ash, I need to be on stage in five minutes. You can't ask anyone else. By the time they get back here, it'll be too late!" Not to mention that Daisy (and her other sisters) would never let her live this one down. _Maybe you should put a little more effort in, Misty. Your boyfriend doesn't even want to_ _ **undress**_ _you._

"How are you gonna get ready in five minutes?"

"I don't know! Just …" Misty flailed at herself. "Help!"

" _How?_ " cried Ash, looking terrified. "I want to live past today!"

Misty let out a frustrated "Aargh!" and quickly pored over the dressing room, searching for an answer. _Something to cover his eyes. Blindfold … there!_ Pulling Ash in tow, she hopped over to her vanity chair and snatched up a red velvet scarf – an accessory of her next stage costume – that lie draped across the top. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"Just turn around! We don't have time to argue."

Ash did as he was told. Before he could protest further, Misty knocked off his hat and pulled the scarf over his eyes, around his head, tying it with a simple knot at the back. She spun Ash forward by the shoulders like a kid playing 'Pull the Tail off the Misty' at a birthday party. "Can you see anything?"

"Nothing," replied Ash.

Misty breathed a sigh of relief. _Wait_. She raised an eyebrow at him. His answer didn't sound all that genuine. She pretended to turn away – and in a flash, pulled down her eyelid and stuck her tongue out at him. No reaction. _Good. He really can't see anything._

"Misty? What now?"

"Okay. Um … you just have to …" Misty gulped. The heat was rising again; she could feel it across her neck and chest. "J-just grab and pull, I guess."

Ash's hands advanced unsteadily, closing in on her hips. Misty shut her eyes, grimacing. She couldn't watch this. Her best friend, her childhood crush, her … slightly-longer-than-childhood crush – _undressing_ her? It was just too much. She couldn't bring herself to –

The feeling of Ash's hands grabbing her butt.

Misty shrieked, her eyes popping open. " _WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR HANDS GOING?!_ "

"I-I can't see what I'm doing!"

"You're not _supposed_ to be able to see what you're doing!" She snatched up Ash's hands in her own, repositioning them onto her hips. "Right here, _Brock._ "

"S-sorry," said Ash, blushing wildly. Misty thought she noticed the smallest of smirks cross his face, but it vanished with a blink. _I better have imagined that, Ash._ "It was an-"

"Forget it," said Misty quickly, dismissively. She was amazed that she didn't want to hit him. But then again, at a time like this, sending her only hope to the trauma ward didn't seem like a bright idea. "Just pull down. As hard as you can."

Ash did pull down – a little too hard, in fact. The synthetic material tightened like a noose around Misty's waist; she felt as if her hips were contracting back into her body, as if her thighs were conjoining together.

"OW!" she cried, grabbing Ash's wrists. "Not that hard!"

"You said 'as hard as you can'!"

"I meant that figuratively! Not literally!"

"How do you _mean_ something figuratively? You said it literally!"

"I didn't _say_ 'literally', did I?"

"You didn't say 'figuratively' either!"

Misty let out another exasperated huff. "Just wait a minute." She looked around the room, searching for something, anything to make the process less painful. _Something to lie down on._ There was a fold-up table set along the wall; it would have to do. She hopped over to it, batting off greeting cards and a vase of baby's breath sent by one of her more 'enthusiastic' fans. The floral bundle fell to the floor with a _CRASH._

"W-what are you doing?" asked Ash, seeming alarmed by the sudden amount of noise. The rumble of a sliding table only led to more questions. "Misty?"

"Get over here, Ash. We're running out of time!"

Ash obeyed, walking over to her – and almost tripping over and falling onto the table. Misty caught him in time, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Listen to me," she said, staring Ash in the blindfold – as if that made any difference. "I'm going to lie down on this. It'll be a lot easier to get this thing off that way. All you have to do is grab and pull. Grab. And. Pull. Okay?" She dug her nails into the flesh beneath the fabric, adding with a growl: " _Make sure_ you grab from _the sides_ this time."

"R-right," replied Ash, blushing.

Misty hopped up onto the table. Thankfully, it supported her weight – something she didn't mention out loud in lieu of another fat joke from Ash. She lied down prone, stomach-first, placing both arms in front of her, crossing them beneath her chin. Her mermaid's tail hung out over the edge; the table was a bit on the short side, ending just before her knees. "Okay. Just … _be careful._ "

The ambiguous threat seemed to work. It took him a moment, but eventually, Misty felt the tips of Ash's fingers brush up against her skin. He was nervous, uncertain; she could deduce that easily from his touch, from the quivering of his fingertips. The feeling was, however, not in the place she had expected.

"Those are my _shoulders_ , Ash."

"Really?"

Misty blew her bangs out from over her eyes. This was ridiculous. She felt like she was at the world's worst spa, run by someone with a first-grade education in anatomy. Even Psyduck would have done a better job at getting her free by now. Probably. It was either that or her legs would be torn off through sheer psychic force. _Ash as my masseur, or no legs?_ Tough choice.

A bump against the back of her thigh.

Misty glanced up at herself in the vanity mirror. Immediately, her eyes went wide. In order to steady himself, Ash had switched his stance, placing his legs on either side of her tail. She was bent over the table with Ash _right behind her_ , his hands firmly upon her hips. He pulled on her tail – and inevitably, pulled her towards him, bumping up against her with his –

" _WAIT!_ " squeaked Misty, her reflection turning redder than her hair. This looked like some messed-up moment on The PokeDiscovery Channel. She rolled over immediately, thrusting her hands up against Ash's chest. "N-not t-that way."

"Uh … why?" asked Ash, sounding genuinely confused. "I thought you wanted me to do it this way?"

Misty balked. She had no words. She could only stare up at Ash, completely mortified by her position, by _his_ position. Ash: straddling her, wearing a blindfold, his hands on her hips, her palms against his chest. Misty's heart pounded like a raging Tauros. Turning herself over had only made things _worse._ "I-I … u-um …"

" _Attention! All our lovely patrons from Cerulean City and beyond!"_

Now Misty's heart was in her throat. _Daisy._ It was Daisy's voice, echoing over the intercom. She was out of time.

" _We would like to like, thank you for coming out to the Cerulean Gym today to see the premiere of our new water ballet, Pearly Hearts! We totally hope you're enjoying the show! Intermission will be a bit longer than we planned due to, like, unforeseen circumstances. Don't worry, though! The second act is coming up in …"_ – sudden hushed whispering, something like 'where the heck is she?' – _"a-about ten minutes. So please, order your refreshments and find your seats soon! I repeat, we'll be starting Act II in_ _**Ten**_ _._ _ **Minutes**_ _. Thank you, and enjoy the show!"_

Misty let out the breath she had taken at the start of the announcement. Crisis on hold, extended cut. Daisy had bought her some time; she knew that the irritated tone at the end of the broadcast was meant for her. But with the way things were going …

"You named your play _'Pearly Hearts'?_ "

Misty looked back at Ash. He – _they_ – were still in the same position as a minute ago.

"Get off!" she shouted, shoving him away. She couldn't let his taunt go unanswered, though; it wasn't in her nature to let him win. At anything. "What would you have named it, anyway?"

"Not something that sounds like a perfume my mom would use," quipped Ash. The smug look was back, plastered across his face.

"Oh please. Like you're so creative."

Ash took up a 'deep in thought' stance, placing his hand on his chin pensively, comically. He looked like a blind philosopher mulling over the meaning of life. "Ocean's Two."

A giggle escaped from Misty's lips. "It's not a heist movie _,_ Ash. There's a castle. Not a casino."

Ash shrugged. "It fits, though."

"You're such a dork." Misty didn't want to admit it, but she thought his title was clever. It was only a matter of time before he said something stupid again, though. She sighed. _Back to reality._ "What am I going to do, Ash? My sisters won't be able to stall the crowds for long. If I don't get out there soon …"

"Can't you just cut it off?"

Misty rolled her eyes at him – pointlessly, she realized. "Of course not. Don't you think I would have done that already? Custom-made costumes like this cost a lot, Ash. Like, hundreds of dollars. I need to _get it fixed._ Not wreck it."

"Oh." Ash sat down onto the floor, placing his chin upon the palm of his hand, seeming frustrated. "Maybe we need something to help slide it off. Like, to loosen the hold. What's the word for that … Luvo … Lugia …" His eyes lit up behind the blindfold. "Oh, right! Lubricant!"

 _And there it is._ Misty flushed red and slapped her tail against the side of his head. "Moron! Stop joking around!"

"Hey! What was that for?!" yelled Ash, nursing his wounded ear. "I was being serious!"

"Being serious? You don't even know what that stuff is for!"

"Sure I do! Like … car engines, and stuff."

Misty covered her face with her hands. Thank Mew he couldn't see her; her blush was probably permanent by now. "Just shut up. _Please_. Shut. Up."

"I'm only trying to help, Mist."

" _Help?_ " she echoed, looking up at Ash incredulously, as if the word was foreign. " _How?_ How is this helping? You're only making things worse!"

Ash flinched, seemingly taken aback by the affront. "How am _I_ making this worse? You're the one that's flipping out about everything!"

"I'm only flipping out because you're acting like an idiot!" Misty shot him a dark smile. "Actually, scratch that. You _are_ an idiot."

"Oh yeah? I'm an idiot, huh?" said Ash, struggling for a retort. He shot a finger towards her. "At least I know how to take off my pants!"

Misty snorted. " _That's_ your comeback? A lot of good that will do considering no one would ever breed with you!"

"Fish lady!"

"Pokemon _Moron!_ "

"Maybe you should find someone else to help you!"

"Maybe I will!" shouted Misty. _Stupid._ This was incredibly stupid. She was acting like a child, acting like her old self. She _needed_ Ash here to pull this off. But the rage had already taken over. She was too angry to back down now.

Ash got up from his seat, brushed off his jacket. "I'm leaving." He turned towards the door, moving a hand behind his head to pull off the blindfold.

Misty clenched her fists into balls, her nails digging into her palms, nearly drawing blood from the pressure. Of course he would do this. Again. Just like before. Memories of a burnt bike and a crossroads hit her like a flood. Her muscles burned with rage. Her blood boiled. He never changed. He never, _ever_ changed. _Ash, y-you … you self-centered bastard!_

" _FINE!_ Fly off to Hoenn or Sinnoh or wherever the hell it is you go! Disappear again for another six years! You never call us! You never write! You can't even be bothered to send a damn postcard anymore! _SO GO!_ But don't expect me to be sitting here for the rest of my life thinking about you!"

Ash stopped in his tracks. He stood next to the door, facing away from her, completely still, seemingly frozen in time.

Misty blinked. _What …_

Slowly, Ash turned to face her. He raised his hand to the blindfold, lifting the velvet fabric from his eyes, pulling it up just above his brow. Misty met his gaze. Suddenly, her mouth was dry. Her lips wouldn't stop quivering.

… _did I …_

"You think about me?" asked Ash, sounding surprised.

 _What did I JUST SAY?!_


	3. You

**You**

"S-sometimes," stammered Misty.

Ash stared at her, unblinking. He raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes?"

"You know. Like when you're battling in the league. Or when some natural disaster hits another region. Mostly when something like that's on TV, because I don't know where you are, or what's going on with you, and I worry about you. S-so every so often. Not all the time." She may as well have just said 'All the time'. She knew she wasn't convincing anyone, least of all Ash.

Ash didn't respond. He looked like he was thinking about something very intently – though Misty believed that to be impossible, because she couldn't put together a single coherent thought right now. Soon, Ash's eyes wandered, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

"You don't have much time left, Mist," he remarked.

Misty's gaze snapped to the clock. He was right. The extra ten minutes Daisy had given her had already turned to eight. She was right back where she started.

"Well are you going to help me?!" she shouted, motioning to herself, blushing wildly. She suddenly felt very bare, and not just due to her skimpy outfit. It was like Ash was staring into her soul.

A grin took shape upon Ash's face. "Do you promise not to hit me again?"

"Never."

"Never 'I'll never hit you' or never 'I'll never promise'?"

"Never 'I'm never going along with this because you're an idiot.'"

"Bye Mis-"

" _OKAY!_ Fine!" wailed Misty, squirming in her seat. Dying from embarrassment wasn't enough, apparently. Now Ash wanted to tease her to death. "Just get over here!"

Ash walked back over to her and took hold of her hips, still sporting the same stupid grin. It was infuriating. Then again, most of the things he did seemed to infuriate her, past and present. _Why, though?_ Misty stared up at him, pursing her lips to the side. She reached up to his forehead, to the blindfold, and tugged it back down over his eyes.

"Ash Ketchum, _Pokemon Master_ , closet pervert," she muttered – a thought she had meant to keep to herself. Misty bit her tongue, glancing up at him awkwardly.

Ash's grin became a smirk. "At least I'm not that guy from Kalos who always came to your swimming lessons 'to learn'." _HA! You didn't deny it!_ thought Misty. Ash paused, and his tone took a sudden turn towards concern."Does he still do that?"

"No, Ash. I think he's in jail. Indecent exposure."

"Oh." Another pause. Longer, this time. "Miss-t, your eyes. They are so beautiful."

Giggles bubbled up from inside Misty. _Oh Mew, he sounds just like him!_ "You can't even see my eyes!"

"Would you perhaps like to see a play with me tonight? There's a new water ballet premiering at the Cerulean Gym. I've heard it's ex-quit-sit."

Misty was laughing too hard to breathe. Never mind that Ash couldn't pronounce 'exquisite' or that his Kalosian accent was a bad caricature. This was _priceless_. " _S-s-stop!_ Damn it, Ash! I need your help!"

"Okay. What do we do?"

That was a good question. What _could_ she do? Nothing she and Ash had tried so far had seemed to work. Trying to get her tail off on the table had been a bust – and _that_ had been, well, too embarrassing for words. Having Ash pull straight down hadn't worked, either. Misty looked around the dressing room. What was left? What … was …

Misty looked to her left, to the far wall. Her gaze settled upon a metal costume rack sitting sturdy next to a line of dressers. It was tall – nearly seven feet high, she figured – and held several of the outfits she'd be wearing during Act II. Long, draping dresses that looked like they were from Victorian times. The rack needed to be that tall to accommodate them.

 _That … could work._

Misty hopped off the table, grabbing Ash's hand, tugging him to come with her. After removing some of the hanging outfits and draping them over a nearby chair, she motioned towards the rack, presenting it like the prize on some odd game show. "See this?"

"No."

Misty looked sidelong at Ash in annoyance. She pulled the blindfold off his eyes, up to his forehead, and motioned to the costume rack again. "See this?"

"Yes."

"Good. Here's the plan. We're not having any luck doing this by ourselves. So we're going to use _gravity!_ " Misty made little swooping motions with her hands, as if that was supposed to indicate 'gravity'. Ash just looked confused. "I'll jump up and grab on to the top bar. When I do, you jump and grab on to _me_ , and just let gravity do the work! Ta-da!" A popping motion. "Instant tail removal!"

"Misty," replied Ash, looking skeptical. "I … don't think that's going to work."

Misty didn't think so, either. It sounded like an Ash Plan. Short-sighted, illogical, a little bit crazy. But Ash Plans seemed to magically have a way of working out in the end, and she was out of ideas. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

"We've been in enough cliffhangers together," said Misty, shrugging. She started counting off fingers. "The St. Anne. Sabrina's dollhouse. Shamouti Island. _Literal_ cliffhangers, Ash. I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened already." Instantly, she blushed. Was it normal for her to mention situations where Ash might take off her pants, now? Accidentally. Of course.

"Suspenders."

Misty blinked at him. It took her a moment to join the dots. "Right. Suspenders." She crossed her arms. "Well?"

Ash nodded. "Okay. Let's try it." Suddenly, he held up a finger. "Wait. Just one thing."

"What?"

Ash pointed to her outfit, grinning. "I like this better than the Goldeen costume, y'know."

Misty felt her face flare red-hot. She punched Ash squarely in the shoulder. Hard. "I can't believe you remember that!" She tugged the blindfold back down over his eyes, turning away with a _Hmph_. "I'll save you one of these dresses for later, _Ashley_."

"H-hey, that wasn't my idea! It just … caught on. That's all!"

Misty laughed, taking a glance at the wall clock. The joy within her evaporated with a blink. _Six minutes …_ She took in a sharp breath, and glanced back at Ash. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Misty wasted no more time. She leapt upwards, grabbing onto the top rod of the costume rack, taking hold of it like a mounted pull-up bar. The metal structure shuddered, but remained stable. Misty batted at Ash with her tail, leading the blind. "Come on!"

Ash followed suit – albeit clumsily. He hopped onto her like a Pachirisu climbing a tree, grappling with neoprene. The costume rack rocked under their acrobatics, swaying back and forth. To Misty's surprise, she could feel her tail slipping away, gradually, a centimeter at a time. But Ash was slipping away, too. No doubt feeling himself falling, he clamored to keep himself in the air, scrambling to find a grip.

Suddenly, Misty felt Ash grab hold of a handful of seashell. She turned scarlet, making a sound that matched the pitch of her old Togepi. " _A-ASH! LET GO RIGHT NOW!"_

"I-I'm slipping!"

" _I DON'T CARE! LET G-_ "

The costume rack tipped over under their combined weight. They both screamed. The metal frame toppled to the floor with a _CRASH!_ , the impact shaking Misty's dressing room, reverberating far out into the hallways.

Darkness.

"O-ow …" came Ash's voice.

Misty opened her eyes. The soft fibers of the beige carpet filled her view. She could feel them on her chin.

"Ow," she echoed.

Misty picked herself up off the floor, and looked around. On the floor in front of her sat her pink seashell bikini top. The broken strap was intertwined around Ash's fingers.

Misty looked down at herself. Her mermaid's tail lay undamaged, free around her calves. Her hair extensions cascaded down over her chest. The only part of her costume that remained intact was her pearl necklace.

Misty looked up at Ash. The velvet scarf she had used as a blindfold sat rumpled atop his head, intermixed with the locks of his disheveled hair. His eyes were open.

His eyes were open.

Ash's. Eyes. Were. _Open_.

Ash stared at her, wide-eyed, bright red. "Mi-"

Misty grabbed him by the collar, lifting him like a rag doll, slamming him up against the wall before he could finish her name. She narrowed her eyes to razors, locking gazes with his quivering brown irises, growling through gritted teeth. " _AAASSH …_ "

"It was an accident! I swear!" cried Ash, terrified, the blood draining from his face. "I didn't see any-"

"You saw _EVERYTHING!_ " roared Misty, her hands shaking violently. "You … _You …_ "

Everything about him infuriated her. Everything. This. The crossroads. That stupid bike. That stupid grin. The fights that made her blood boil. The laughter that stole away her breath. The times they had shared together. The time apart. The way he threw his life at danger without stopping to think what she would do, what her life would be without him. The countless nights she had spent awake, spent alone, gazing up at her bedroom ceiling, wondering where the world had taken him, wondering what might have been.

Everything.

Misty lunged forward, pressing her lips against his, kissing him as hard as she could manage.

* * *

Soft.

Her lips were soft. They tasted like watermelon. _Good …_ thought Ash. He nipped at them. A crisp scent wafted across his senses, like the smell of a poolside on a sunny day.

Misty's lips retreated. Her breath came in wisps. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, her teal irises sparkling, her hair an ocean of fire and flame.

Ash could only stare. "Wha …" he stammered, lost for words, his mouth still ajar, torn between shock and bewilderment. "What?"

Misty blinked. A crimson blush erupted across her cheeks. In a flash, she had dragged him across the room by the collar, ripping the scarf off his head somewhere along the way.

" _GET OUT!_ " she screamed, tearing the door open and shoving him through.

The dressing room door slammed behind him. Ash turned, stumbled, nearly falling over. He looked back at the closed entryway, stared at it in disbelief.

… _What?_

This was a dream. This had to be a dream. He had been on his way to Cerulean City, walking along the wooded path, and some devious Jigglypuff-Abra duo had ambushed him – lulled him to sleep, gazed down into his deepest thoughts, messed with them for their own amusement. That was it. That had to be it.

Ash slapped himself on the cheek. That didn't work: he was still asleep. His other hand felt heavy, for some reason.

"Ash!"

Ash turned towards his name. Around the corner had come Brock and Pikachu, running up to him, looking distressed. That was right: he had left Pikachu with Brock before helping out with the stage work. His head was starting to feel a little less fuzzy, now.

"Brock," he managed, just barely.

"Ash, what's going on? Daisy is furious! The play's about to start back up!" Brock looked around the hallway. "What was that noise? Did you find Misty …"

Brock trailed off. His eyes settled upon Ash, studying him intently, narrowing even further than before. Ash blinked. Pikachu was giving him an odd look. So was Brock, for that matter. Something like … humor?

"Ash," said Brock, raising an eyebrow, "what were you doing down here?"

Ash felt himself go numb. What was he _doing_ down here? _Well, uh …_ He was an honest person, right? A … _somewhat_ honest answer should work.

"I was, uh … helping Misty."

Pikachu fell to the floor, rolling back and forth, sputtering with mousy laughter.

"Ash …" said Brock, his lips quivering, fighting off a grin. He motioned to Ash's left hand. "Helping Misty with _what?_ "

Ash looked down. In his left hand was a pink seashell bikini top, its broken strap still intertwined around his fingers. He had never let go.

The sound of an opening door.

Ash turned, looking over his shoulder. Suddenly, Misty popped through the doorway, covering her chest with Ash's hat, her lower half hidden behind the frame.

" _And give me back my br_ – Brock?" said Misty, blinking. She let out a tiny 'Eep!', vanishing back behind the doorway in an instant. Her dressing room door shut with a _SLAM._

Ash looked back at Brock and Pikachu. They stared at him, gaping, red-faced, in a state of shock.

Awkward silence.

"Hey, Brock," whispered Ash, holding up the bikini top, blushing. "Do you think I should wait to return this?"

Brock placed his palm over his face.


	4. Why

**Why**

Misty Waterflower was going to kill him.

Ash Ketchum sat helpless, hat-less, resigned to his fate. Homicide would be the cause of his death. He had suspected this for a while: long before the days of legendaries, before his evenings were spent saving the world from deranged lunatics. The sight of a burnt bike on the shoulders of the steaming redhead, bursting into the Viridian City Pokemon Center – that had been his first clue. Somewhere, somehow, some _day_ , Misty was going to kill him. And know he knew – he finally knew. Today would be the day.

Ash leaned back upon the bench in the Cerulean Gym's front lobby, shoulders slumped, watching patrons file out from the conference room's entrance. They buzzed and milled about, chatting and laughing, streaming outside to greet the night sky. Misty's sisters were out here now, too, smiling cheerfully, shaking hands with everyone, thanking them for coming. It was an omen, Ash knew. The autograph session was almost over. His life was almost over.

Surprisingly, the rest of the play had gone off without a hitch. He had no idea how Misty had managed to make it to the stage in time – especially considering everything that had, uh, _happened_ – but her performance had been amazing. Every line, poignant. Both soliloquies, sublime. Ash was convinced that she was some kind of incognito star of theater, masquerading as a gym leader as a gig on the side. _Misty Waterflower._ Even her name flowed off the tongue like a pseudonym.

It was strange. Everything about her seemed too good to be true.

Ash scratched his head, looking to his right. He stared at the spiky-haired man sitting next to him, the friend he had traveled with during childhood. Every now and then, both now and during the performance, Brock would turn to him, looking like he was about to ask a question – and then immediately turn away. Ash was glad for that. He figured that one of those questions was _'How are you getting more action than me?'_ , and that was not something he wanted – nor knew how – to answer. _Action_ , thought Ash. Action for him involved perilous trials and Pokemon battles. Not women. Definitely not … _that._

Pikachu, on the other hand, had no problem asking questions. The little mouse scurried back and forth across his shoulders, querying for details like an electric investigative reporter.

"Pika, Pikapi?" _What happened in there, Ash?_

"Chu-pika, Pikapi – Pikachu-pi?" _Are you two finally together?_

"Pi- _ka,_ pika-chuuu?" _Did you touch her-_

" _Pikachu!_ " shouted Ash, blushing red. Pikachu put a mousy paw behind its neck, ducking its head in apology. Ash groaned, rubbing his forehead.

How was he going to face her? He had no idea. The one thing holding him here – the only thing that gave him _hope_ – was the kiss. Why had she done that? Again, he had no idea. He had been kissed before, of course. That girl from the Orange Islands, Bianca, the peck on the lips Serena had given him before leaving for Hoenn. But this kiss had been … more than a peck. _Much_ more. Just thinking about it made him blush.

And then there was the other part of him – _the small part_ – that wanted to sprint out the front door, to head for the airport, to spend the next three hours hiding out in a dimly-lit bathroom stall, keeping his head down until the coast was clear. His flight for Alola left tonight, after all. Today was the last day he'd be in Cerulean City. But Ash knew he couldn't do that. He had to say his goodbyes, at the very least. Better to see the murder coming than to have Misty track him down in a foreign country and strangle him in the dark. Besides, he was no coward.

"Ash."

Ash looked up, blinking. Misty stood in front of him, staring down at him from under the brim of _his_ Pokemon League hat, a hand upon her hip. He sprang to his feet immediately. "M-Misty!"

(Well, not a total coward.)

"Pikachu-pi!" cried Pikachu, hopping from Ash's shoulder to Misty's, switching perches. Misty let out a giggle.

"Hi Pikachu," she cooed, smiling, rubbing the electric mouse behind the ears. It let out a happy 'Chaaaa~'. Misty turned her attention to Ash. "Sorry I'm late. I wanted to see you guys off, but the crowds were …" She trailed off, looking around. "Where's Brock?"

Ash didn't know, either. The larger man had vanished without a word. Soon, they spotted him at the far end of the lobby. Brock was down upon one knee, Daisy's hand within his own, reciting poetry or some terrible pickup line from PokeMatch-dot-com. She looked mildly interested, actually. Ash was surprised.

"Already?" said Misty, blinking.

Ash laughed. "Same old Brock."

As Misty let out a sigh, Ash looked her over, furrowing his brow. Something about her appearance seemed odd. Her hair was down, for one thing. Not only that: her outfit was strange. Different, but … familiar. A short khaki jacket over a yellow top, her usual denim short-shorts, a red bag slung over her shoulder. Something like … traveler's gear. But that didn't make any sense. Why wear something like this right after the play?

"So Ash-"

Ash's gaze shot up to meet hers. Better to not give her an excuse to blind him. Literally. Not figuratively.

"Since we're _returning_ things …" said Misty, taking off Ash's hat. She plopped it back onto his head with a fair amount of force. Ash laughed nervously. He had followed Brock's advice, but leaving her seashell top upon her dressing room doorstep like some weird sort of olive branch seemed incredibly stupid, now.

"T-thanks," he managed.

Awkward silence.

Misty turned her gaze to Pikachu, smiling. "Pikachu, do you think I could have a moment alone with Ash? There's something that we need to talk about."

Pikachu nodded, smirking. It covered its mouth with its paw, whispering into her ear. " _Pi-chupikapi_ ," Ash thought he heard. Something like ' _Take it easy on him.'_ He sulked. _Gee, thanks buddy._

Misty smiled, watching as the yellow mouse hopped to the floor, scampering away towards Brock and her sisters. "Something a bit cuter to distract Daisy for a while, right?"

"I don't know, Mist. I think Brock's plenty cute."

Misty's smile grew brighter, but she didn't laugh. Ash swallowed involuntarily. He felt like his throat had tied itself into a knot.

Awkwarder silence.

Misty stared at him, narrowing her eyes. "Well?"

"I-I'm sorry," said Ash, holding up both hands. Better to plead for his life while he could. "Look, it was an accident. I didn't mean-"

"That's not what I'm looking for, Ash."

Ash blinked. _She doesn't want an apology?_ Why? _How?_ How was that possible? And that meant … oh Mew, what _did_ she want? His life, of course. Ash cringed, waiting for the deathblow.

A moment passed.

"You don't know, do you?" said Misty.

Ash looked up at her, completely oblivious. _Know?_ No, he didn't. "Know … what?"

Misty didn't respond. Not at first. Her lips began quivering. Her eyes shimmered. Slowly, her hands balled into fists. "Ash … You …"

"Misty?"

" _YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE!_ "

Ash recoiled, pulling back as if a hydrothermal geyser had erupted in his face. Anger swelled within him. What the hell was her problem? " _I'm_ unbelievable? I'm trying to apologize!"

"Well you're doing a lousy job at it! And besides, that's not what I want!"

"How am I supposed to know what you want?! Do I look like a Kadabra?!"

"You're ugly enough to be one!"

"Not this again …" came Brock's moan. Ash glanced towards his voice. They had been loud enough to attract attention: both Brock and Misty's sisters had walked over to see what all the fuss was about. A few random show-goers were staring at them. Brock was holding his forehead. Pikachu was grinning again.

"Misty, what's this all about?" asked Lily, seeming annoyed.

"Seriously, this is ridiculous," said Violet, brushing away a stray lock of hair. "Can you two get a room? Or like, a boxing ring?"

"Pi, chupi-ka-pichupi." _You're a little late there, Vi-_

"Pika _chuuu_ ," moaned Ash, clutching his hat. He wanted to dig a hole in the lobby and tunnel his way to the airport, now.

"Ash wouldn't know what to do with a room," said Misty, crossing her arms, giving him a sidelong sneer. "Oh, wait, I know. He'd use it for _room service!_ "

"Better than your cooking!" yelled Ash, jabbing a finger at her. "You almost killed me in the Orange Islands! Food poisoning!"

" _Killed you?_ I saved your life!" shouted Misty, mirroring the motion. "You should be glad that dunces float!"

Brock approached. "Come on you two, let's not-"

" _Stay out of this, Brock!_ " they shouted in unison, turning their fingers his way.

Brock balked, holding his hands up defensively. He took a step backwards. "Uh … _Okay._ "

Misty turned back to Ash, fuming. "Why did you even come here, Ash? Just because I called and asked you to?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why?"

Ash hesitated. His face was getting warmer. "I, uh … wanted to visit."

" _Why_ did you want to visit?"

"I … What does it even matter why?" he protested. "I just did!"

"Oh, you _just did,_ " echoed Misty, mocking him. "Why, Ash? For the bike shop? Wanna buy me a ten-speed?"

" _No._ I just … I-I wanted to see you. That's all!" _Warmer._

" _Why?_ "

"Because!"

Misty counted fingers. "Because I'm your friend? Because you missed me? Because you wanted my help to catch water Pokemon?"

"B-because …" _Hot._

" _Because WHY?!"_

" _BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!_ " he shouted.

A hushed silence fell over the lobby. Ash blinked, slowly glancing around. Everyone – _everyone_ – was staring at them. Daisy had both hands over her mouth, wide-eyed. Misty's other sisters stood gawking at him, floored. Even Brock looked surprised. Pikachu was the only one who already seemed to know the answer. The little mouse gave him a 'paws-up', smiling.

Ash turned back to look at Misty. She looked stunned. Her eyes were shimmering again.

 _She didn't know_ , he thought. _She thought I didn't know, either._

How many days had it been since the boat to Hoenn? How many days since 'goodbye'? He had lost count. Too many, he knew. Too many sunsets against a foreign horizon. Too many years spent away. Too many sleepless nights on the road, gazing up at the dark sky, at the only bridge between them, whispering the words to the stars.

 _I love you._

Misty gave the floor a little stomp, leaning forward, blushing. "Well you could have just said that in the first pl-"

Ash cut her off with a kiss.

The gym lobby erupted into cheers. Whistles pierced the air soon after. Ash parted lips with a blushing Misty, spotting Daisy with two fingers between her lips, whistling away. Brock had his arms crossed, grinning. Pikachu was shaking pom-poms – where he had found them, Ash didn't know. A random patron sprinted away from the crowd, bursting through the gym's exit, weeping dramatically. Ash blinked. _Wasn't that the guy from Kalos?_

"I knew it! I totally knew it!" Daisy practically scampered up to Ash, hugging him as if he was her new brother-in-law. "How could you not fall for someone that pulled you out of a river? Plenty of fish? _Lucky catch?_ It's like destiny, or something!"

"D-destiny," said Ash, blushing profusely. What was it with him and women today? "I guess it kinda is."

A rigid hand poked Misty in the shoulder from behind. She stumbled, looking up at a now-smirking Brock. "Only took you two half a decade."

Misty sighed, smiling. "Sometimes it felt like _two_ decades."

Lily stood with Violet, watching the scene before them unfold from afar. "Vi," she murmured, "remember that guy Misty mentioned? The one that was obsessed with her?"

"Rudi? From Trovita Island?" Violet tilted her head in thought. "Isn't he still single?"

"Yeah."

"So like, what about him?"

"Dibs."

" _Hey!_ "

Ash scratched the back of his neck nervously. So many people had crowded around them, gawking at them as if they were a celebrity couple. His head was whirling. His gaze settled on Misty – smiling, her fingers laced behind her hips. She was beautiful. He always thought so, secretly. Ever since Maiden's Peak. Maybe ever since the day they had met.

"I should cancel my flight," he said. "I can't leave now."

Misty shook her head. "You don't have to."

Ash looked at her in bewilderment. "What are you _talking_ about? We just-"

"Nope." Misty put a finger to his lips, cutting him off. She reached for the inner pocket of her jacket, pulling out a slip of paper, handing it to him. "You won't have to, Ash."

Ash blinked, examining the document. It was a plane ticket. Cerulean City, bound to Alola. November 7th. Seat 54, First Class. The seat next to his.

"How did you …?" he murmured.

"Remember that call you made to Brock just before you bought your ticket? The one about _in-flight dessert?_ " asked Misty, ending with a snicker. Ash sulked. "Well … I _might_ have been in the background for that."

"But you're a gym leader. What about-"

"We can handle that!" said Daisy, giving him a sharp nudge in the shoulder. "Misty, like, did _so_ much work for the ballet this year. Writing the script, choreography, stage planning. _Everything._ So when she asked for some time off again to travel, we like, totally couldn't say no. I mean, it's only six months, and since we held this one a month early …"

Ash blinked. _A month early?_ He remembered, now: the water ballet was usually in June and December. It was November. It was also two weeks since he had gotten back from Kalos. Misty had called him on his way out of the airport, practically ten minutes after he had touched down.

Wait. She was traveling with him for _six months?_

Ash looked at her in wonder. "You planned all of this?"

"Like you said, Ash," – Misty broke into a grin – "when it comes to us, there's no such thing as coincidence."


	5. Streetlight, Starlight

**Epilogue: Streetlight, Starlight**

The stars were bright tonight. Brighter than usual, actually. But maybe that was just a matter of perspective.

Misty walked along the streets of Cerulean City, carrying her travel bag, one hand in her pocket, smiling ear to ear. Every now and then, she'd bump into Ash's shoulder, wandering into him intentionally. He would do the same. This was their sign of affection, developed on a whim; Pikachu had accommodated them for it, choosing the non-Misty side. She was glad for that. Holding Ash's hand in public still seemed weird, for some reason. But that was fine. It was something that would come in time.

"Y'know Mist, there's a lot of Pokemon with type variations in Alola. You might be able to find Water types that aren't usually Water."

"Really?" replied Misty, glancing Ash's way in surprise. She turned her gaze upwards, staring up at the night sky with a grin. " _Misty Waterflower:_ Water-type master of Pokemon that aren't always Water. I think that suits me perfectly."

"Pi _-ka_ chu!"

"Pikachu thinks so too," said Ash, chuckling. He scratched the little mouse's head. "I can't believe we're really going there together. We're going to see so many new Pokemon! I heard the league down there's really competitive. And the food …!"

Misty laughed. Ash lived, breathed, and dreamt Pokemon – and ate everything else. _Some things never change._ "Oh, that reminds me. I should re-introduce you two."

Ash blinked. "Re-introduce? Didn't we, uh, do that-"

"Not _that!_ " snapped Misty, feeling her cheeks flare hot. Pikachu snickered. "I want you to meet an old friend."

"Old friend?"

Misty nodded. She stopped, unzipping her travel bag, fumbling with the contents inside. Her fingers brushed against spherical metal. She smiled. _There._ She pulled the Poke Ball out from its resting place, pressing its central button with a _Click._

A flash of light illuminated the dimly-lit avenue, sparking from the now-open Poke Ball up to Misty's shoulder. It formed a series of spheres: one round body, two flattened ears, a tinier ball at the end of a zigzagging tail. Two black, button-like eyes gazed at Ash and Pikachu, taking the place of the white sparks that had faded away.

"Marill!" the blue mouse exclaimed, holding up a paw.

"Whoa. Azurill evolved!" exclaimed Ash, staring in wonder. He turned to his shoulder. "Isn't that great, Pikachu?"

Pikachu didn't respond. Not to Ash, at least. Misty blinked, looking from the yellow mouse to the blue one upon her shoulder. They seemed to be … staring at each other. Very intently.

"Pika, Pikachu …"

"Marill, Mar."

"Um, Pikachu?" said Ash, blinking. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Pikachu put its paw to its mouth, whispering into Ash's ear vigorously. Ash listened for a while, nodding. A grin sprouted upon his face, growing ever-larger with each 'pika' and 'chu'. Before long, he was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Ash? What's up?" asked Misty, curious.

Ash wiped a tear from his eyes. "Pikachu wants to know if they can _get to know each other better._ "

Pikachu swatted Ash's head with its tail. "Kapi, Pikapi!" It crossed its paws, looking to the side with a blush.

"W-what?" said Misty, dumbfounded. Out of the blue, she felt Marril's bulbous tail nudge against the side of her head. The azure mouse pointed its paw to the Poke Ball in her hand. "You want this?" asked Misty, holding it up. Marill nodded. Misty handed it over.

In a flash, Marill used the device to shoot a red beam at Pikachu, returning him to _her_ Poke Ball – and then did the same to herself. The Poke Ball fell from the air, landing in Misty's cupped hands.

Misty and Ash blinked at each other, blushing.

"We're pretending this isn't happening, right?" said Misty.

"Uh-huh."

* * *

"So where do we go from here, Ash?"

"Isn't it ten blocks up this way, then you make a left-"

"Not to the _airport_ ," said Misty, jabbing him in the shoulder. Her gaze drifted down to her shoes. "I mean … where do _we_ go? You know?"

They stood amid the streetlights, within their golden hue, waiting at the edge of one of Cerulean City's busier intersections. The crosswalk before them advised against passage, its display holding them far at bay, the red hand blinking steadily. Traffic whizzed by them, headlights streaming, leaving trails like electric jellyfish. The office buildings surrounding them stretched up into the stars, windows lit, silhouettes of workers moving to and fro.

Ash looked to the sky. "All the time I was traveling, I never really knew where I was going."

"I figured that out the first time you held a map upside-down."

"Har-har," he replied, glancing at her sidelong. Misty stuck her tongue out, and his eyes returned to the stars. "What I meant was … when you're out there, you're lost. Even if you don't really want to be. You never know which way is up, or where you should be going, or what you'll find when you get there. But if you keep moving, eventually, you figure out where you were really meant to be." He looked at her, smiling. "That's what I think, anyway."

Misty smiled, blushing. "Something poetic from Ash Ketchum. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Don't get used to it," he said, grinning. He gave her shoulder a little bump.

Misty stiffened intentionally, standing taller, putting on a fake pout. "Yeah, well, I'm still not forgiving you for seeing me naked."

"It really was an accident, y'know," said Ash, hiding his face beneath his hat's brim. Misty laughed inwardly; he was always so cute when he was embarrassed. "I-I didn't see that much."

"Didn't see _much?_ " she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, well I did! Just, I mean, not … you know …" stammered Ash, turning red. "I liked what I saw?" he offered lamely.

Misty stared at him, completely deadpan – and then burst into a fit of giggles. Ash blinked at her, looking flustered, confused.

"You can relax, Ash. I'm not mad." She waved him off. "You do have to make it up to me someday, though."

"How would I do that?"

Misty tilted her head, thinking. _How would he do that?_ She turned her gaze to him, eyed him up and down. The thoughts rolling through her head made her shiver. A devious smirk formed on her lips. " _Well …_ "

"H-hey!" cried Ash, 'covering himself up', looking ridiculous. "That's not fair! You've seen me in my underwear plenty of times!"

"That's not the same, Ash."

"It is if it happened more than once! Saffron City … Route 15 …"

"The Indigo League …"

"The _Indigo League?_ " said Ash, looking at her in dismay. "When?"

So he didn't remember how she … 'stumbled in' on him that morning, when he was in the middle of getting changed? Well, that was a memory to keep. "Oh, _never mind_."

Ash sulked. "And you called _me_ a closet pervert. We were ten, Mist."

Misty laughed out loud.

It's different, now. Different, yet the same. The lights of the crossroads. The bicyclists that pass them by. The way he makes her laugh. The way he soothes her anger. The times that they share together. The (little) time they're ever apart. How she can't imagine her life without him, being next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, side by side. The countless days ahead, spent together, gazing out at the horizon, wondering where the world might take them, wondering just what might be.

After all, the past is gone. This is the present.

The crosswalk sign changes to 'Go'. Ash's fingers interlace with hers. Her heart soars like a Wingull, riding the updraft, drifting through the clouds of an uncharted sky. She steps forward, taking strides with him in unison, knowing that whatever could come between them – distance, time, the stars themselves – will never be enough to keep them apart.

Misty smirks.

"So Ash, what kind of beaches do they have in Alola?"

Ash trips over his own feet.


End file.
